My crew did exemplary work during the Iconian War, keeping the ship together and maintaining a high enthusiasm, despite the horrifying circumstances. Some say there was no Iconian War and it was just a story that got imprinted into our memories by some telepathic race. Perhaps that is something best left to philosophers and maybe a few Vulcans. All I know, is that the middle section of my ship is missing a flat part and there are two holes in the back of the saucer section. As soon as we get that fixed, and remove all the interstellar dust from its crevices, we'll be on our way. It's been a tough war, not just because of all the solar rays we endured, but because I couldn't call in sick to it, like I planned. Admiral Quinn was not having it; probably because I call in sick every time there's a Borg Alert. Damn my lack of imagination for excuses. Oh! I know, next thing we do, I'll say my grandmother's deftly ill. Brilliant. --Damn, I just pulled a Sisko entry. Computer, erase that entire log.

It seems I've taken a left turn at Albuquerque, or maybe it was a right? I wouldn't know anyways, since I'm fairly certain I'm orbiting the remains of Earth Spacedock as they attempt to fix it once more. I could swear I'm seeing myself in the hallways, but that can't be possible, as I'm right here... Or am I?

The incidents are occurring more frequently as time goes on, but so far I haven't seen myself on this deck for over an hour. Then again I've seen a Romulan version, Borg version, and a Kid version of me so far today, I can't help but wonder if I've finally cracked. I probably should bring this up with my Counselor, or even my fiancee, yes...yes maybe I should go right now before...

Victory party at the Presidio following end of hostilities. Turns out Romulan Ale and bloodwine can be mixed, but shouldn't In news unrelated to the location of Admiral Quinn's desk, the crew and I have been moved to the top of the list for long-range exploration missions of indefinite duration.

If we can find his chair he'll even let us have a ship. I don't have the heart to tell him I saw him feeding it into the replicator to be more kanar, but once his hangover wears off in a few days he'll probably reconsider.

Fate - protects fools, small children, and ships named Enterprise Will Riker

Captain's Personal Log: Heath Layress, USS Los Lobos
How many Talarian hook spider eggs do I need to transport in to peoples jeffries tubes before they stop calling us the "Barbie Boat"?
Just because our crew is 80% female is no reason to keep calling us that.
Oh well. Our supply of eggs is getting low. Must remember to swing by Dronza at some point to restock.

(Author's Note: I was going to write a log, but then it came out as a letter. Set just before "Midnight". Was tempted to title it, "The Last Midnight," as that song runs through my head every time I see the episode title.)

Your brother Tovan tells me you wish my reminiscences of this war for some sort of scholarly project. At this point, I feel it may well be merely as a warning for those two hundred thousand years hence who will face our foes again, but at this point I have little to occupy my time - the Ra'khoi s'Virinat is fully prepared, and all we do now is wait for what will prove, one way or the other, the decisive battle. We shall emerge victorious, our enemy defeated for all time, or we shall never emerge and this galaxy shall once again find itself dominated by the shadow of Iconia.

I suppose the roots of the conflict, or rather this phase of the conflict, go back some time. Properly, the conflict itself is some two thousand centuries old, but of course we have little information to go on until the Federation's Starfleet foolishly stumbled, blind as cave-newts, into the ruins of the ancient Iconian empire. They were alerted, wherever they hid at the time, and began moving to take back the galaxy - what they see as their galaxy - and to force us into either subservience or extinction.

It began, of course, with the Undine, dwellers in that strange universe we call "fluidic space". They were already so very xenophobic as to make Klingons look welcoming; it seems that it took very little to fool them into believing that the races of our part of the galaxy had united and begun attacking them. What baffles me to this day is how they could remain under this impression even after using their shapeshifting and telepathic abilities to replace several important individuals in both the Federation and the Klingon Empire. One can only suppose that their intellectual capacity is mostly borrowed from those they control. Of course, since the Fed approach everything with that amazing "heartfelt" approach (which should have gotten them eliminated a dozen times over, but somehow almost always works in their favor), one of their number was able to make contact with the "brain" of an Undine bioship and convince it that they should be working together. The Undine themselves remain a nuisance, but a number of their ships have shifted allegiance to our new Alliance. Note well for that hypothetical far-future audience, however, that when their leaders begin to be replaced by Undine impostors, they should move immediately to speak sense to the ships of their foe. Perhaps avoiding that early drain on resources will enable them to succeed where we may fall.

After a decade, little progress was made on the Iconians' return; they then used one of their servant-races, the thrice-damned Elachi, to make contact with the vile traitor and coward Hakeev, whose House name has been stricken and will not be repeated here. They convinced him and the fool-Praetor Taris to deploy a device they did not understand - well, Taris did not understand; I believe Hakeev knew exactly what he was doing, and did it anyway. They caused a star to go hypernova, then channeled its energy through subspace somehow, sending a directional wave of destructive energy at speeds far greater than light to smash through several stellar systems, culminating in the destruction of ch'Rihan and ch'Havran. I am given to understand that a Federation ambassador, a Vulcan by the name of Spock, attempted to stop the wave through the deployment of an artificial singularity, but failed to arrive in time and was subsequently lost along with the Tal'Shiar's experimental craft Narada in the singularity itself. Hakeev then used his new "allies" to harvest our people like crops, feeding those aehallh with the bodies of his own people!

<pause>

Forgive me, it is - difficult for me to discuss this aspect with equanimity. One of the world he "harvested" was my own home, Virinat. And he was not content with merely kidnapping our people wholesale and selling them as food - he strove to smear the very name of the planet, claiming that we had been acting against the Star Empire and conspiring with the enemy! Had he not done that, had he told us instead that the attacks were purely some sort of Elachi attack, I might not have burned his head off with my plasma pistol at Brea III. It was his participation, however, that drove so many of us into the arms of D'Tan's new Republic. Your brother has become quite the nationalist, boosting the Republic wherever he can find a willing ear. For myself, I care nothing for politics, but I will have my vengeance for my world. Hakeev is dead, the Elachi all but eliminated, and, Elements willing, by the end of the day the Iconian threat will be eliminated as well.

It was a bit strange when we first arrived; the Republic "fleet" was a handful of warships that had belonged to the Star Empire until their crews rebelled against Tal'Shiar domination and sought freedom, and whatever other craft had joined with them. The ship we came in, an aged T'liss-class warbird named Cuirass, was immediately commissioned into the Fleet, as were we, and I retained her command. It wasn't until after the incident at Khitomer, where Temer bravely gave his life to save the conference, that we gained the backing, tentative as it may have been, of both Federation and Klingon Empire. I have to admit, D'Tan was wise - he knew we needed the backing of both, as siding openly with one might cause the other to regard us as enemy and attack, and we could not then have withstood such. Instead, each captain was given leave to ally with one side or the other, as they were then still in conflict with one another. Now, I like the Feds, in honesty - their mnei'sahe feels almost Rihan-like at times, and their drinks are strong and interesting - but only the Klingons would permit me to pursue the avenging of Virinat as a priority, and my own mnei'sahe demanded that. They're humorless prats whose idea of a good time is drinking that Fire-cursed bloodwine, punching one another, and then caterwauling one of their off-key "operas", but they do understand the need for vengeance.

After we resettled Dewa III and renamed it "mol'Rihan", our scientists discovered an ancient Iconian gate buried deep beneath the planet's surface. At the time, we still knew little of the Iconians themselves, and believed the human Picard's claim that they may well have merely been misunderstood. After the Gate was activated, however, and we found what lay beyond - that was when this war kicked off with a certainty. That was when we knew what sort of fleet the Iconians concealed, that they had been observing our worlds (and debating the best way to destroy or enslave us all), and that in the end it had to be us or them. A Human philosopher once observed, "It is difficult to peacefully co-exist with things that want to kill you," and his words ring true today.

Still, we thought it would be just another interstellar war. We've fought those before - our ancestors fought the forces of Earth to a standstill back when we barely had warp drive and our most powerful weapons were nuclear explosives. We knew it would be hard, but we knew we would win. And then, Elements preserve us, we met them in battle. Our ships were destroyed casually, like brushing aside a bug. Theirs were usually brought down at the cost of two of ours for each one of theirs, and you hardly need advanced mathematics to realize this was a losing proposition. We needed a huge strike against them. Fortunately, those same Gates enabled us to extend our reach into the Delta Quadrant of the galaxy, where we found new allies - among them the Krenim, a race that has learned some things about the manipulation of time. Unfortunately, their expertise is far from total, and in an attempt to reach through time to eliminate the causes of this war we very nearly made things even worse. However, their technology is also the key to the strike we make today. I cannot speak further on this, but perhaps, if this succeeds, our work will be declassified and I can discuss it then. Or perhaps none of this will ever have happened, and you will never read this words because I will never speak them. This remains to be seen.

Your pardon, but the call to action has come. I transmit this message in case we fail, that some record of us will survive. Guard it well, sister of my friend, as it may one day be all that remains of a proud and powerful people.

The refit to Solaris is almost complete. The R&R at ESD was welcomed by the crew. Even if the COE did not suggest it, I would have granted it. A rested crew is a happy crew, I think. Although I had a very interesting game of poker before we docked and got to learn more about some of the crew than I expected. I guess they can say the same about me to. No rumors though. “Truth or dare” on a different level. Interesting night.

The war took its toll on everyone. Staza thinks I should get some rest as well. She tells me I have “the look” on my face. I don’t see it in the mirror, but I do feel it. At least she is talking to me again, I missed our conversations.

I have not been to the Holodeck as I should. I know I’m getting rusty, so Anthi is sure to beat me. Then she’ll hang the victory over me even after I show her whose boss. I enjoy her friendship, she is the best XO in the Fleet, I’m sure of it.

I stopped at ESD for a couple of days … it’s noisier than I remember it.

The Iconian War is over but I'm in no mood to celebrate, we lost too many good people, some of whom were dear friends.

The chief tells me the engines will need a complete overhaul and major repairs to the tactical and defensive systems, putting us in drydock for the next couple of months so I've authorized shore leave on Earth for the crew to spend time with their loved ones and to recover from the war.

After dealing with Temporal Investigations again, I finally got around to authorizing shore leave for the entire crew. They more than earned it.

I plan on spending my shore leave back home in Tacoma. If anyone else sees this they'd probably wonder why a Trill sees Earth's Pacific Northwest as home. Then they'd probably look at my personnel file and see that I grew up there and end up feeling stupid.

Love to see the look on their face when that happens...

I've changed quite a bit since my days as an ensign on the Cerberus. Its only been a year since the Borg attack on Vega shoved me into the Captain's Chair, but it feels like a lifetime ago. I find myself thinking about things I never thought about before. Going out on a date, maybe even starting a family someday.

Sure as hell not going to settle down though. They want me out of the Captain's Chair, they are going to have to pry my rotting corpse out of it.

The only problem with shipboard romances... is if it goes south you can't exactly stay away from each other on a starship.

Some days I wonder how other people can do it.

In other news, I've heard that my old friend Roll Cas'ket is going to be throwing a party, and she's invited everyone. M'Ress, Ashe, Commander Saria Kiri from the Romulan Republic... even her sisters Fali and Inara. And they are KDF. As long as the Orion sisters don't go flirting with every guy in sight... ah who am I kidding? Roll isn't that kind of girl anyways, and... I probably wouldn't mind sharing a drink with someone.

At least then it wouldn't be a little creepy just having someone randomly hit on you while walking around ESD. Almost decked the last guy who did that...

Captains log star date 31478.2:
My chief engineer is experimenting with a new series of variables for our warpcore. Though dangerous, this experiment might prove useful for star fleet if succ..... <static>

It's been weeks since my mighty flagship, the USS Firestorm C, was destroyed at the hands of the Iconians. While the USS Firestorm D is still a work in progress that'd end the Iconians once and for all, it's too late now that the war is over. My replacement ship, the USS Molly, is working out though. Whoever thought to name it after some Mirror Universe ship is beyond me, but it's only temporary.

Until the USS Firestorm D is completed, I'm giving the crew some shore leave. While "shore leave" is usually on ship with some combat training mixed in, I think I'll actually give them shore leave this time. They deserve a break.

Although it may be cut short, as I've been getting some disturbing reports from Starfleet Command. They might need the Firestorm, well, the Molly once again... as usual.

Computer, record the stardate I took this log, then end log.

Winning.

It's what I do. It's what I just did. It's what I'm about to do again. It's being undisputed emperor of an empire that cannot be disproved as the most powerful intergalactic empire in the entire universe; I always win, and everything I've won will definitely be won again... by me. It's my signature move, and thus, it's my signature. Problem, Sonic? Yeah, I mean you, Sonic, because you're being beat up, despite your being super. You can't even hit Shadow back, can you? Nope, he's too strong for you. Of course, I'm not Shadow, I'm the Super Emerald fueled fox that's pulling the strings; trust me, the fight would only be a few frames long if I were in it personally. Oh, and here's something for all you guys thinking you can win Last Post Wins 3.0; trust me, I'll be around a long while after the sun has already consumed the Earth while I sit out with the forum servers on Titan. Yes, I mean Titan... that comparatively little moon orbiting Saturn. It's a nice little place in a version of our solar system where the sun is a lot bigger. I mean, Mars will last longer than your precious Earth, but by then, it'll be one hot planet... and I figure Saturn's moon will be about the right temperate for a super-powered warlord. Oh, and trust me, I packed a lot of rings, and I mean a lot. Trillions, in fact, so I'll never run out of rings to power my super form. Besides, if I start to run out, I can just chaos control more rings into my reach. It's quite easy, really. You should try it. Granted, you'll never have the 7 Super Emeralds that I have in my possession, nor the Master Emerald that I've got hidden away somewhere... absorbed into my body thanks to Sonic logic, but whatever. I win. Again. I'm not kidding, either. Just check Last Post Wins, and if the last post isn't mine, it soon will be. Very, very soon. You can count on it. Seriously. By the way, if you're wondering, there's a really great Super Tails sprite sheet out there... somewhere... by some guy named shadow_91. These sprites are really great. Like, really good. Quality. Just like what I like to see in a sprite sheet. Also, credit to Joe T.E., his Sonic Battle style Super Sonic sprites have a great palette for a Super Sonic being beat up by Super Shadow, who's palette is from a Super Shadow sheet of unknown origin, but it turns out they were "borrowed" from a better sheet made by a certain Domenico. Oh, and the gif is actually a custom made super version of a similar gif, of which there are only 3 or 4 copies to be found by Google, and even then, evidently of an unknown source. Yep, it's one of those things. Stuff people have made, spread around, only for it to vanish and you to be the only person who still has a copy, not even knowing where it came from... like, literally at all. Oh, and anyone notice that Shadow's little chaos snap blast thingies are red and blue now? Yeah, I changed it. Problem, fans of purple? Yeah, I know you got a problem with that one, but you can just deal with it. After all, according to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly... alright, alright, I'll spare you the entire Bee Movie script, just Google it if you want. By the way, ever wonder how your characters would've ended up if they evolved in another universe? Yeah, that. Think about it. Ok, so you probably didn't bother reading up to here, but whatever, here's a surprise for you guys over at ESD (RP) who were crazy enough to read this: Emperor Nat of the mcfreakin' Terran Empire is gonna be right all along! The universe is gonna go BOOM! *Thumbs up to the insanity*
Oh, now don't tell me you want in on all this! Well, ok. Look this that Egg Pawn hanging outside your window, pointing his laser rifle at you, waiting for my next order. He's doing his part. He helps conquer the weak-minded. He roboticizes the weak-bodied. Heck, he even helps keep the useless people from causing any trouble, but you know what? Join. Find the closest Nataran Empire roboticization center near you and join the ranks, before the ranks find you. Oh, I know, you figure it must be so satisfying to know I basically rule the world now, and you know what? It is, but do you want to know the true definition of satisfaction? Well, let me tell you a little story. One day, you see a brand new event. They're giving out boxes that give old event stuff. Your dilithium is plentiful. You buy a whole lot of Phoenix packs on your main, and open them all. You get one epic token. Then, you decide, that since you have all the Breen ships and don't give a damn about the others, you exchange it for an ultra rare, and grab yourself a Jem'Hadar Attack Ship and for the hell of it, a Voth Bulwark. You open both, leaving the Bulwark in your vast masses of starships as you jump into the bugship and deck it out, deck by deck, into the most awesome Jem'Hadar ship you can. You fly it. You enjoy it. Eventually, you get bored and leave, leaving the old Bulwark never flown... until later. Your main is long complete. Your new alt main, based off some character you pulled out of nothing just to explain away some starship being in service without the command of your dear admiral, is also complete. Mostly. Their reps and doffs are hard at work, getting you stuff. You realize the potential, and head back for your dear admiral, pull the most Voth themed build you can out of thin air, and suit up in your giant ship in the shape of you know what. You head out... and cause all sorts of havoc. Enemies scream out your name as their very life is drained away by your swarms of Aceton Assimilators. They complain to the devs of your OPness when you revive yourself from death every time you die. Do you show any form of mercy? No. After all, this isn't the United Federation of Planets, this is mother frakkin' Starfleet, where you explore strange new worlds and kick butt never kicked before. Oh, and you realize that I just wrote another speech rivaling your own signature. Cool. Oh, wait, that's just the original draft, it is part of my signature now. Oh, and yes, I am aware that I have become a Canadian Regent; one day, sooner than you'd expect, we'll suddenly decide to take over the world and declare an "alliance", and I shall become it's Regent. You know, like the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance in the mirror universe of our beloved Star Trek. Oh, who'll we be taking over with? I dunno, maybe [REDACTED], or maybe aliens from outer space. Guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't we? Until then, don't ask too many questions, or else my Breen allies on Titania might pick up on your -- [REDACTED BY BREEN CONFEDERACY FOR REASONS] Also, psst... keep an eye out for flying Tribbles! Also walls. Big, great walls, separating entire continents apart. Walls patrolled by Tribbles. Flying Tribbles. Flying Nukara Tribbles. Don't worry, it's not like they were on Venus with a herd of Tholians or anything, they just like the extreme heat and brutal weather like acid rain and hurricane force winds as the norm. Oh, and definitely keep your eye out on any two-tailed foxes, because if they ain't glowing, they're definitely an imposter. Possibly an Undine, we caught one of those once in my place once. Oh, and if you find a two-tailed fox that doesn't like the cold... most certainly ask him to say sorry. If he refuses, DESTROY HIM WITH A DOOMSDAY MACHINE, BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING ELSE THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH AGAINST SUCH AN OVERPOWERED IMPOSTER!

I've ordered my crew to replace all our weapon systems with teleports, we are now teleporting torpedoes a few meters away from their ships instead of firing them, once the shields are down we just teleport the enemy crew, so far we've captured 238 enemy ships just by beaming their crew into space.

The Iconian War is finally over. As my Klingon crewmen celebrate with a barrel of Bloodwine, I know my other crewmen are celebrating in their own ways. It's funny really, we've become more diverse in the past year than ever before. When we were still at war I have Humans and Tellarites who defected, I have a trio of Jem'Hadar and a Vorta clone, a cadre of Cardassian's, some Kazon, a few Benthan's, a couple of Talaxian's and Voth, among the normal Lethean, Gorn, Orion, and Nausicaan crewmen. Perhaps sometime in the far future when the Iconian's come around, we may even have Herald crewman aboard a Klingon ship.

And here I am, sitting over a cold cup of Raktajino, trying to compile letters to the families who died on my ship. Bekk Carran, Commander Sskans, Lieutenant R'rowenski. They all died glorious deaths, and they are only a few in the dozens of reports I have to write now. Now- Yes? Computer, pause recording.

Resume recording Computer.
Ah, a letter from my Brother's Fiancee in the Federation...

O-oh. I see.

Computer, End Log and Encrypt,

Secondary Note Computer,

Inform Command that I must request leave for immediate departure to join the Kh'tar en route to Elba II, I will leave the Ankara in Swmn'jara's capable claws.

While conducting a standard exploratory protocol of a newly discovered star system in the Venet System, Delta Quadrant. In assisting with deep space fleet support operations of creating a navigational list of scientific potential research assets for fleet command to follow up on in future missions . Our Maymora Class Vulcan Research Science Ship, Serenity Wings, picked up on ship's sensors a negative squared mass quantum field particle spike in the localized stellar area. Upon investigating this highly energized tachyon quanta source with accompanying tau neutrinos. Gravimetric sensors detected an unseen spatial instability of the relative underlying symmetry of subspace as it began to collapse (as indicated by astrometric sensors noting the curious effect that, unlike ordinary particles, the speed of a tachyon increases as its energy decreases) and a temporal fissure of undeterminate origin became visible. After altering our relative position to this immensely powerful phenomena, a vessel of Federation construction style and markings, exited the spatial fissure before the spatial fissure fully collapsed.

After conferring with our ship's library, a registry data match was presented which identified the newly arrived ship as a Jupiter class Dreadnought. Some recorded refits incorporating a carrier style offensive profile. Classified ability of having the capacity to create a Mark 2 Gravity Well, and judging from weaponry scorch marks along the U.S.S. San Jose's saucer section, extensive superstructure damage along the deflector hull and uncontrolled energy surges as seen arcing from within her deflector assembly. In providing a captain's tactical assessment of the situation from present available data. It is within reason to hypothesize that while in a hostile engagement mere moments ago. The U.S.S. San Jose attempted to initiate a mark 2 gravity well as a last resort measure. Her power systems spiked from a fierce barrage of impacting weaponry fire which overloaded the energy feed to the deflector assembly. The uncontrolled energy surge essentially caused the gravimetric assembly to rip a tear deep into the quantum symmetry of space-time and the U.S.S. San Jose was pulled in adrift. All of her redundant navigational control system breakers having most likely been blown as indicative of the orientation of the ship as it proceeded out of the spatial fissure . As regular communication channels are scrambled due to the highly energized nature of having been in close proximity to a temporal spatial instability of such immense power. We are attempting to modify our exterior lighting controls in order to establish an intelligible communicative ability through varying brightness levels. From my studies of ancient earth naval ship tactics, the proposed Heliograph signal method of using leaf-type shutters for keying a beam of light into dots and dashes should also provide reasonable clarity to this uncertain chain of events that the Dreadnought's crew are indeed of earth, in being familiar with the usage of Morse Code. However, whether they be of our own dimensional timeline proper or are adrift from another place and time altogether. Only a quantum signature hull scan of their ship in comparison with that of our own will prove whether this be true. Until such time as when engineering has returned our sensors operative status back to their standard preset criteria. The only recourse for me as to delay may present less desirable results. Is to allow the Serenity Wing's support craft shuttle to navigate around the Dreadnought at a relative safe distance to fully ascertain the extent to the damages. Then to confirm if her shuttle deck has it's atmospheric containment field intact for a possible landing attempt. Boarding party on the shuttle to be representative of medical personnel, an intelligence operative, engineering damage control technicians, and our security chief. Addendum log to follow in 30 standard minutes with initial shuttle report upon survey and boarding. As a footnote in the discharge of a captain's orders in unlikely circumstances, there is a choice of relative degree's of risk to make. Our memories, our choices are all that we will have left when we each step into the unknown. At the end of the game, the king and the pawn each go into the same box. In joining fleet operations, each crewman and captain has had to decide what we're willing to sacrifice. That through focusing upon our extensive military and scientific training, a solution to unlikely circumstances would present itself and we would succeed through honor, valor and allegiance. Each of us to stand and embody the concept of Axios, 'I am worthy'.

My Interview with Master Chief Vennie Meintz went well. He will be a great addition to the Developmental Lab team. I've assigned him to Science Lab two on deck twelve. He will also be teamed with Tiala from Engineering. The dual mentor program implemented by my Chief Engineer has been working well so far.

As for Meintz, I may place him on the Alpha shift bridge duty roster based on his academic background and service record the USS Cordorba. Captain Daikar was gracious to recommend Meintz' transfer; his loss is my gain.

(my fleet's story is lagging slightly behind canon, to give us advance warning and time to wrap up our own threads; the following was written a few days before the events of "Midnight", as we try to hold the line out on the frontier.)
---

"Personal log."

"Thought about asking to be relieved from duty on grounds of emotional compromise. But who else could I put that on? And, who isn't? Even the Commodore looks and sounds tired."

"Dark days. Been here before. So tempting to just give up. Have to keep going, get through it somehow. Pray I make the right decisions. I can't tell anymore."

You heard right—that’s personal log, not captain’s log. The result of the private meeting to which the admiralty called me was suspension of my rank and command pending investigation of insubordination for my actions on Iconia. I’m angry… after all I’ve done, all the problems they’ve thrown me at without instruction, they have the nerve to charge me with insubordination when I change plans in light of new information… but then, as obsessed with war as the modern fleet is, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

This isn’t to say that I am universally condemned. Captain Kagran wouldn’t stop singing my praises (literally, at times), and Admiral Shon insisted that my decision, made at a time I was unable to contact fleet command, were perfectly in line with the tenants of the Federation. It was the Romulans who seemed to most strongly resent my actions—they feel like I chose to save the Iconians over saving them. I can only imagine what Sela’s being subjected to.
I’m also being charged with violating the Prime Directive, but it’s a flimsy and half-hearted accusation. Modern Starfleet doesn’t care much for the Prime Directive. It’s about the only thing we agree on.

Shon says that I am likely to be pardoned in light of my actions. After all, after our losses in the war, Starfleet needs capable personnel even more desperately than it did when I began my career. I’m very likely to be reinstated with merely a warning, which Shon assures me I can probably ignore, but… deep down, I question whether I want to be reinstated… I joined Starfleet to explore, to further science and ethics, to help people… but all I’ve done since I first shipped out has been fight. I’m tired of fighting. Starfleet says they’re shifting the focus back to exploration, but… after all this time, it’s hard to trust them.

And perhaps most bitter of all is the damage to the Aurora. The engineers say they may not be able to salvage her, but that’s not what concerns me… Many captains love their ships fiercely, but the Aurora was never that close to my heart. What hurts is much more real: I lost half of my crew fighting over Earth. Four hundred people, gone… and they died on the Aurora, under my command. The survivors are hurting… everyone lost someone. I’ve had two hundred and seven requests for transfer come across my desk, and fifty-three resignations. Unable to sign them myself, I’ve passed them onto command. I can hardly blame them for wanting to leave… I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk the Aurora without seeing ghosts.

Maybe I should just save Command the trouble and add my resignation to the pile. I’ve written it three times already…
But every time I get ready to submit it, I’m interrupted by some officer or crewmen popping in to ask if there’s any news when the ship will be fixed, and where we’re going next... and when Thera caught a glimpse of one of my resignation letters, she scowled at me and made pointed looks at the crew roster until I deleted the letter. The message is clear: "The crew needs you, don't you dare resign."

[There beep, and a long silence]

Message from command. I’ve been reinstated.

[Another long silence, followed by a sigh]

Well, what else am I going to do? I'll accept. I'll accept and pray they don't send me to war again...

Nimbus, a hive of scum and villainy; never thought I would have come back to this desert. I guess it helps I'm no longer 'officially' under D'Tan's command or owing any allegiance to the K.D.F. or the Alliance. Maybe I can get a decent sleep under the stars without worrying about finding myself in an Elachi holding cell too.

The Pirates, they have it easy. They don't care about Galactic affairs, they don't care about petty squabbles or bad blood. It's 'just business' to them, until their precious little 'hiding holes', like Nimbus, come under attack. I was actually here, at Nimbus, when the final attacks began. We lost a good portion of the planets 'defensive forces', the pirates lost a lot of people here, and the colonists are probably just barely scraping by, and I don't expect the Orion Syndicate to take up pirating in this sector until they lick their wounds.

Might as well help repair the colony. If anyone needs a little hope, it's definitely Paradise City. They need a new Peacekeeper... I always wanted to try my hand at law keeping.

Just received orders to head back to the Delta Quadrant and complete various patrols that were interrupted by the war. I suggested we start from scratch, as if the Alliance had not returned to the Quadrant, but Admiral Johanson pushed her thought that what work was done was acceptable. I can see her point of view: our resources have been diminished greatly and it will take time to get back to pre-war levels in ships and crew. Not to mention all the experience that was lost ...

Still, it will be good to stretch Solaris' wings again under a banner of peace.

Recommendations for commendations of merit and discipline to the entire crew, who have served their Duty and the ship's honor at a level that I am humbled to be their commander. My bridge officers are also recommended for an additional cluster to their Phoenixes, for their discipline in preventing a potentially disastrous change to the predestination paradox that the Galaxy was caught in. The circle is closed.

Our damage from passage to the temporal vortex has been repaired, though Temporal Defense has already logged a request for inspection. The enginering and science logs, along with our scans of passing through the vortex, past Iconia, and our passive scans of the armada that bombarded the planet, are attached to this log and have been forwarded to the relevant science ministries. Time travel is the great temptation of archeology, and I suspect our readings will be the subject of academic debates for years.

As noted in the previous log, our search and rescue efforts in Earth orbit have completed. We were able to aid in emergency repairs to Earth Spacedock, and communications traffic in the Alliance is clear for the first time since the War began. Navigation reports freighter warp signatures beginning to dart out of the remaining strongholds, contacting the bypassed colonies.

What is next for the Simurgh is unknown, but she earned the name she picked, flying through fire and death to life on the other side. At the moment, we are awaiting departure orders from Command.

Computer - end log.

Personal log, Admiral An'riel seh'Virinat - Stardate 88115.07

It was revenge in the end - and I thank the Elements and fate that I was able to learn the lessons Sela has refused, that the fragile chain of events that led me to putting a pistol to Hakeev's head and satisfy mnehi'sahe. It was a necessary revenge, and a cold thing that does not keep you warm at night. But Sela ignored the older ways (I think we can safely call the Empire the old ways now that their entire leadership has been tied by one strand or another to Hobus). But Hakeev, may he continue to rot, let me see there were other forms of vengeance.

But without that summary execution, I do not know if I would have had the strength to hold through and show grace to a stronger foe, and break them via conversation and stop the fires of blood, instead of one last hateful act of spite. The crew suspects, of course, but they are far too polite to comment on personal weakness.

Weakness - I have been D'Tan's hunting dog for years. Now, the silent enemy is gone. Hakeev is gone, and the masters of both are gone. The terrible war between the Federation and Empire have ended, the three great powers of this part of the galaxy are at peace. The Republic has grown from an idea skulking in shadows to the great banner of us and the Remans. Our new homeworld stands, charred and defiant. I have even stood on the crimson sands of our ancient homeworld... and unlike the tales of our dead Empire, wondered why we were asked to leave instead of the followers of Surak leaving to find a nicer planet. Everything I swore to try to succeed for Viriant, my first real home in decades, has come to pass.

What is left? Virinat was the people, not the dusty dry world. I could probably ask D'Tan for it, but I do not think I could send people there to settle in good conscience while better worlds are available. Even the trade routes it was on are less useful now that we are friends with the Humans and the Klingons. No, home is the people, and they travel with me. Sela is neutralized - perhaps it is finally safe to assume the mind games are behind me, that the Republic would not suffer with me exercising my rank in a fleet instead of a tool to open doors military and diplomatic? The idea begins to intrigue me, one I have been avoiding for very long.

Or perhaps go back to the job that became my passion - there are dozens of worlds that require resurveying in the wake of the Iconian War. And the frontiers are always there - the path to Hirogen space has barely been touched by the Republic, for instance.

For the first time in decades, my people have peace. I have peace within as well.

It terrifies me, what pressures will tear on us now that enemies are not at our gates. What use am I in a peacetime fleet, as a semi-rogue captain and commando?

I do not know, but I do know I have gathered over the last few years, a family to replace the one long lost and buried. I am scared, but after all we have triumphed, we have no choice but to succeed.

Computer - end personal log.

Fate - protects fools, small children, and ships named Enterprise Will Riker

Captain's Log, Stardate, whatever
We were sent on a patrol mission near the romulan star empire's border, then we intercepted an encrypted message, an unknown alien force assaulted and destroyed one of their most populated colonies, just 2ly away from the capitol. We went under cloak to investigate to find that...
RED ALERT, Fleet Admiral to the bridge, they are back sir, with 278 ships following us at transwarp 53 and closing

Computer, end log...

(the ship was destroyed, one day later the romulan capitol and three other romulan empire worlds were destroyed, the report showed that they were a type of Temporal Dreadnought, with starfleet designs, but they are not starfleet, who could they... oh no)

As it turns out, the shipyard where the USS Firestorm D was being built was destroyed by unknown attackers, so I've decided to rename the USS Molly to the USS Firestorm D, forever joining the ranks of famous ships who's Galaxy based varient had the letter D attached to it's name...

As it turns out, my allies in Omega Force were feeling sympathetic for my... situation, and sent me one of their experimental Avenger class battle cruisers, packing everything from Omega force designed weapons to prototype adaptive shielding. The ship's name? You'll never guess. The people at Starfleet must be trying to send me some kind of message. I'll never understand these people, even if I outrank most of them.

Anyway, reports about some trouble in the Alpha quadrant don't sound good. We might have to deal with the Mirror Universe once again. Lets just HOPE that Mirror Admiral Nat isn't a super evil militaristic madman...

Computer, record the stardate on the log and then end the log.

Winning.

It's what I do. It's what I just did. It's what I'm about to do again. It's being undisputed emperor of an empire that cannot be disproved as the most powerful intergalactic empire in the entire universe; I always win, and everything I've won will definitely be won again... by me. It's my signature move, and thus, it's my signature. Problem, Sonic? Yeah, I mean you, Sonic, because you're being beat up, despite your being super. You can't even hit Shadow back, can you? Nope, he's too strong for you. Of course, I'm not Shadow, I'm the Super Emerald fueled fox that's pulling the strings; trust me, the fight would only be a few frames long if I were in it personally. Oh, and here's something for all you guys thinking you can win Last Post Wins 3.0; trust me, I'll be around a long while after the sun has already consumed the Earth while I sit out with the forum servers on Titan. Yes, I mean Titan... that comparatively little moon orbiting Saturn. It's a nice little place in a version of our solar system where the sun is a lot bigger. I mean, Mars will last longer than your precious Earth, but by then, it'll be one hot planet... and I figure Saturn's moon will be about the right temperate for a super-powered warlord. Oh, and trust me, I packed a lot of rings, and I mean a lot. Trillions, in fact, so I'll never run out of rings to power my super form. Besides, if I start to run out, I can just chaos control more rings into my reach. It's quite easy, really. You should try it. Granted, you'll never have the 7 Super Emeralds that I have in my possession, nor the Master Emerald that I've got hidden away somewhere... absorbed into my body thanks to Sonic logic, but whatever. I win. Again. I'm not kidding, either. Just check Last Post Wins, and if the last post isn't mine, it soon will be. Very, very soon. You can count on it. Seriously. By the way, if you're wondering, there's a really great Super Tails sprite sheet out there... somewhere... by some guy named shadow_91. These sprites are really great. Like, really good. Quality. Just like what I like to see in a sprite sheet. Also, credit to Joe T.E., his Sonic Battle style Super Sonic sprites have a great palette for a Super Sonic being beat up by Super Shadow, who's palette is from a Super Shadow sheet of unknown origin, but it turns out they were "borrowed" from a better sheet made by a certain Domenico. Oh, and the gif is actually a custom made super version of a similar gif, of which there are only 3 or 4 copies to be found by Google, and even then, evidently of an unknown source. Yep, it's one of those things. Stuff people have made, spread around, only for it to vanish and you to be the only person who still has a copy, not even knowing where it came from... like, literally at all. Oh, and anyone notice that Shadow's little chaos snap blast thingies are red and blue now? Yeah, I changed it. Problem, fans of purple? Yeah, I know you got a problem with that one, but you can just deal with it. After all, according to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly... alright, alright, I'll spare you the entire Bee Movie script, just Google it if you want. By the way, ever wonder how your characters would've ended up if they evolved in another universe? Yeah, that. Think about it. Ok, so you probably didn't bother reading up to here, but whatever, here's a surprise for you guys over at ESD (RP) who were crazy enough to read this: Emperor Nat of the mcfreakin' Terran Empire is gonna be right all along! The universe is gonna go BOOM! *Thumbs up to the insanity*
Oh, now don't tell me you want in on all this! Well, ok. Look this that Egg Pawn hanging outside your window, pointing his laser rifle at you, waiting for my next order. He's doing his part. He helps conquer the weak-minded. He roboticizes the weak-bodied. Heck, he even helps keep the useless people from causing any trouble, but you know what? Join. Find the closest Nataran Empire roboticization center near you and join the ranks, before the ranks find you. Oh, I know, you figure it must be so satisfying to know I basically rule the world now, and you know what? It is, but do you want to know the true definition of satisfaction? Well, let me tell you a little story. One day, you see a brand new event. They're giving out boxes that give old event stuff. Your dilithium is plentiful. You buy a whole lot of Phoenix packs on your main, and open them all. You get one epic token. Then, you decide, that since you have all the Breen ships and don't give a damn about the others, you exchange it for an ultra rare, and grab yourself a Jem'Hadar Attack Ship and for the hell of it, a Voth Bulwark. You open both, leaving the Bulwark in your vast masses of starships as you jump into the bugship and deck it out, deck by deck, into the most awesome Jem'Hadar ship you can. You fly it. You enjoy it. Eventually, you get bored and leave, leaving the old Bulwark never flown... until later. Your main is long complete. Your new alt main, based off some character you pulled out of nothing just to explain away some starship being in service without the command of your dear admiral, is also complete. Mostly. Their reps and doffs are hard at work, getting you stuff. You realize the potential, and head back for your dear admiral, pull the most Voth themed build you can out of thin air, and suit up in your giant ship in the shape of you know what. You head out... and cause all sorts of havoc. Enemies scream out your name as their very life is drained away by your swarms of Aceton Assimilators. They complain to the devs of your OPness when you revive yourself from death every time you die. Do you show any form of mercy? No. After all, this isn't the United Federation of Planets, this is mother frakkin' Starfleet, where you explore strange new worlds and kick butt never kicked before. Oh, and you realize that I just wrote another speech rivaling your own signature. Cool. Oh, wait, that's just the original draft, it is part of my signature now. Oh, and yes, I am aware that I have become a Canadian Regent; one day, sooner than you'd expect, we'll suddenly decide to take over the world and declare an "alliance", and I shall become it's Regent. You know, like the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance in the mirror universe of our beloved Star Trek. Oh, who'll we be taking over with? I dunno, maybe [REDACTED], or maybe aliens from outer space. Guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't we? Until then, don't ask too many questions, or else my Breen allies on Titania might pick up on your -- [REDACTED BY BREEN CONFEDERACY FOR REASONS] Also, psst... keep an eye out for flying Tribbles! Also walls. Big, great walls, separating entire continents apart. Walls patrolled by Tribbles. Flying Tribbles. Flying Nukara Tribbles. Don't worry, it's not like they were on Venus with a herd of Tholians or anything, they just like the extreme heat and brutal weather like acid rain and hurricane force winds as the norm. Oh, and definitely keep your eye out on any two-tailed foxes, because if they ain't glowing, they're definitely an imposter. Possibly an Undine, we caught one of those once in my place once. Oh, and if you find a two-tailed fox that doesn't like the cold... most certainly ask him to say sorry. If he refuses, DESTROY HIM WITH A DOOMSDAY MACHINE, BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING ELSE THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH AGAINST SUCH AN OVERPOWERED IMPOSTER!

"Everyone's celebrating, or mourning, or still in shock, or some combination. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and find that everything since last night has been a dream, and I'll be staring down the barrels of an Elachi dreadnought or our extinction as a race. Finally able to get away for a moment, sit down and record this log, but soon I'll have to get up and get back out there. Be the captain, just a little while longer, until we can all stand down."

"And tomorrow, and the day after that? Find out what the future looks like, now that we have one again."

It is with a heavy heart I write this to you, Admiral Quinn, and so shortly after the end of a war. I would like to request Commander and First Officer of the Kh'tar, Zinuzee Lexis Zidire, hereby be promoted to the Rank of Captain, with full rights and privileges therefore entitled to one of such rank.

I also regret to inform you of my stepping down as Captain and resignation of my command and unofficial rank of Admiral. I have been approved to transfer to a Starfleet Medical facility due to suspicion of possible alteration of memories, or external influence on my psyche, in connection with the 'Midnight' incident on Iconia. The facility will also house a Department Agent as well, who specializes in Temporal Psychiatry, as there is a temporal factor involved. My former Medical Officer Ten, will have forwarded a copy of his findings and reason for my sudden departure to Command.

I thank you very much for serving under you this past year, and hope you will take my previous request into consideration, as I can see no better person to care for the ship as her, not withstanding her original posting in joint with me on the Blazerion as equal rank. May the future of the Federation be bright, and may you 'Live Long and Prosper', as the Vulcans say.